


If we have to be lonely, let's be lonely together

by bananatri



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Gen, Soft boys being soft, Tanuma has a lot of feelings, also Tanuma is a little jealous of Nyanko sensei, and Ayakashi are super complicated, and even if none of that were problems understanding people is complicated, and their friendship is complicated, because Natsume is complicated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 04:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19434256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananatri/pseuds/bananatri
Summary: Kaname just wanted to know Natsume.





	If we have to be lonely, let's be lonely together

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Tanuma curses. Not a lot, or even anything all that bad, but Natsume Yuujinchou is so soft and floofy and g-rated and the anime is even less biting than the manga, so I figured it might take some people off guard, but Tanuma and Natsume are teenage boys that have lived through a lot of crap and you can't convince me they wouldn't swear at least a little.
> 
> Anyway, leave love and edits and complaints in the comments and just love in the form of kudos. Happy reading!

It wasn’t often that Kaname and Natsume fought. And even then, they couldn’t really be called fights so much as differences in opinion. But this time…well, it still couldn’t really be called a fight, but it was the first time they had walked away from each other without really resolving anything, left to stew alone, separately.

Except that wasn’t really true either, was it? This…disagreement was like all their others. Kaname equal parts terrified and determined, and Natsume much the same, but only in regard to Kaname’s life and happiness. Kaname pleading to Natsume to let him in, to tell him when he needed help.

(Kaname knew Ponta was right, that he was usually just baggage at best, because what could someone who couldn’t see do?)

(Before Natsume, Kaname could have never imagined that he’d want to see _more_.)

And Natsume, listening but not understanding. Natsume giving empty promises to tell him in the future. And Kaname, pretending to believe him.

So, in that sense, this time wasn’t different from times before, at least not in content. The difference was Kaname. He couldn’t keep pretending to believe him. Because it was becoming clearer that, if he did, he wouldn’t know Natsume needed help until he was injured to the point that he _couldn’t_ hide it anymore.

(Until he was dead.)

So this time Kaname held his ground, but Natsume was just as stubborn as he was, if not more, so they left, both upset. And now, hours later, Kaname was starting to feel as guilty as he was frustrated. Natsume didn’t understand his desire to know more because, like Kaname, Natsume had grown up desperately wishing to see less. Probably even more so than Kaname, because that reluctance and fear of people knowing (fear of people in general) had to have come from something (someone). Kaname hadn’t asked what that something was yet because he knew Natsume wouldn’t tell him.

(He was too afraid of the answer anyway.)

So now, he was feeling guilty for forcing Natsume into this corner when Kaname understood better than most that unwillingness to part with that piece of him (maybe the most important piece when it came to Natsume) even as he was feeling frustrated that Natsume wouldn’t offer up even the tiniest bit of that unless he was forced to.

(But shit, was he any better?)

(The photos of his mother sat in a long untouched box, heavy in his hands and heart.)

Kaname had known Natsume for a year now. And maybe a year wasn’t a lot in the grand scheme of things, but one year was a lot when he had only lived for sixteen, especially with how many of Kaname’s days had been passed sick in bed, days nothing more than hazy recollections of medicine and heat and the wish to live his life among the trees instead of seeing them through a window.

Kaname just wanted to know Natsume. He didn’t know if it was a selfless wish or a selfish one. He didn’t know who he was trying to help. But did it matter when it would help them both?

(Would it actually help Natsume or would it just add to the burdens he insisted on carrying on his shoulders?)

Kaname was saved from his spiraling thoughts by a soft knock on his door. It couldn’t be his father of course, so it was likely to be Kitamoto or Nishimura or Taki. He would put his money on Taki because she was his closest friend.

After Natsume, of course.

(He wondered if Natsume felt the same.)

(Kaname was pretty sure he was losing to a cat.)

( _The damned thing wasn’t even a cat._ )

So sure was he in the fact that Taki would be at the one at the door that he was completely floored when he opened it to see Natsume instead, poised in his doorway with the dying sun at his back, dyeing his normal silver-washed frame with a soft, burnt umber.

He stayed that way long enough for Natsume to shuffle awkwardly and break the silence himself.

“Can I come in?” he said, hesitant and unsure the way he was in the beginning, clutching the strap of his bag tightly.

Kaname hated how easily Natsume could slip back into the shell he had built for himself and didn’t know how to rectify that other than saying, “of course” and opening the door wider to let him in. It seemed to work as Natsume relaxed marginally when he walked into the house – the not-cat nowhere to be seen for once – and toed his shoes off as Kaname said he would make tea, adding that Natsume should wait in another room.

With Natsume padding away, as silent as the shadows only he saw, Kaname boiled water and braced himself against the counter, wondering what the hell he should say. He wanted to apologize as much as he wanted to shake Natsume until he promised to talk to him, until he actually meant it when he said it.

(He’d spent his entire life haunted by half-formed specters and, still, one day with Natsume was more complicated than the rest of his life put together.)

(This would be a lot easier if Natsume wasn’t so likeable.)

Kaname breathed out and carried two cups of tea further into the house until he stopped in the room with reflections from the intangible pond, equal parts surprised and unsurprised that Natsume would choose this room of all rooms.

He cleared his throat and Natsume turned to look at him, a little nervous. Kaname just stayed quiet and handed him his tea, the steam from the cup louder than them.

They sunk to the floor of the porch, Natsume looking at what was just grass to Kaname while Kaname faced the other direction, looking at the imperceptible water’s reflection dance on the ceiling, wanting to feel at least a little bit a part of the world Natsume lived in, but only succeeding in feeling miles away from the boy breathing less than a meter from him.

(Sometimes it was lonelier being with Natsume.)

(Kaname hated himself for that thought.)

(He thought it anyway.)

They continued to sit in stilted silence for a while before Natsume suddenly blurted out, “I don’t know how to talk about Ayakashi”. Kaname turned to him, blinking in surprise at the sudden proclamation as Natsume’s mint eyes continued to trace the movements of the invisible fish in the invisible pond before opening his mouth to continue, the words rushing out, “There’s a lot of things that aren’t…that aren’t good or kind. Things that are sad or terrifying or infuriating. But there are just as many things that are sweet or gentle or beautiful. Some things are all of that, are more than that. And it’s still hard for me to talk about them because…up until now, nothing good has come from that and I…I can’t promise to do anything but try but, well, I figured I could start with something beautiful”.

And then Natsume reached into the bag he had kept next to him and pulled out a rolled-up paper (parchment, really, ancient and feeling all the more important for it), hesitating a moment before handing it over to Kaname. He pulled it gently from Natsume’s pale fingers and slowly unrolled it, eyes widening when he took in what was on it.

“Is this...” he trailed off, breath stuttering in his chest.

“Yeah,” Natsume said quietly and a little unsure, like he wasn’t confident he was doing the right thing or if it was something Kaname would even want.

“I’ve been practicing, but I’m still not very good at painting so it’s not....it’s not all that it is and even if I were better I’m not sure I could paint it so that it _is_ all that it is, but this was the only way I knew how to show you your pond.”

Tanuma blinked, still speechless and overwhelmed and soaking in every careful stroke on the page.

“Thank you…I,” his throat closed up and he looked into Natsume’s eyes, hoping to convey everything he couldn’t find the words for. “Thank you”

Natsume was good at speaking and hearing without words and understood what Kaname was trying to say, the last bit of nervousness melting into a soft smile.

“You’re welcome.”

And this time, when Natsume turned back to look at the pond, Kaname looked as well, feeling a lot less lonely.

**Author's Note:**

> The line in there - "With Natsume padding away, as silent as the shadows only he saw" - is still kind of a weird line for me. The "shadows only he saw" could be Natsume, for obvious reasons, but it could also be Tanuma because Natsume sees things that are as tangible to him as humans, but Tanuma's the one that sees only shadows. I'm the author and I still don't know who I meant.
> 
> Writing is fun.


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